Friday 8.22.14Datin’ in the Ozarks… Well, I had a really strong to-do list; strong means without head-distractions , outside distractions. As usual, that didn’t work…First… (3:00 p.m.) A customer at work spent 2 hours (right up till quittin’ time!) telling me how happy she is to have moved here from Alaska and found everything she has been looking for her entire life. Yea, her! Then she suggested I join the Lions Club and maybe I would find the same happiness.5:00 p.m. Home from work. It’s really freakin’ hot, 100+ degrees. Cleaned and filled the pool last night ‘cuz I knew I’d need it this weekend. Now, I spend two full hours (not nearly enough, but it’s progress!) cleaning out the barn, preparing for my move, somewhere… I am avoiding going online and checking the “results” of my posts at (2) dating sites. This stuff really sucks, I refuse to PAY to find “love” besides it’s how I met Damien, who I spent an entire decade of my life with -- with let’s just say, less than desirable results. I am burning (most) every memory I have of this place. In fact my neighbor kids asked why my fire was so big. I told them I was burning my past and that they wouldn’t understand. But their grandpa did, who was watching and who has a crush on me and is married. And boring. Then I put my swimming suit on. I needed to tend my fire for awhile and it was getting hot. Then I remembered my other neighbor, the one I ran into the other night in the dark, on the path where I was walking my dogs. He asked me if I had water in my pool and I said no, because I didn’t, but I thought it was a very strange question and it was dark and I didn’t even know who I was talking to. So tonite, as I was getting all heated up by my (practical) fire, I thought about having an impractical fire. With music and relaxation. So I got my courage up and went and knocked on my (I really don’t think he’s my type, but who ever really knows, right?) neighbor’s door. In my swimming suit. With coverup, to pretend modesty. (I am on the prowl for real.) No answer after three knocks. Okay. Nope. Apparently not meant to be. I’m still bored. Out of my freakin’ mind. Which is the better way to waste my time? And I am convinced that time is being wasted! Then I decided to call Frank.